


Here, Me

by bitsori



Series: Stay What You Are [2]
Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Canon Universe, Confession, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Overthinking Lee Know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-08
Updated: 2018-09-08
Packaged: 2019-07-08 13:35:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15931496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bitsori/pseuds/bitsori
Summary: In which Minho tries to figure out what Jisung means by “I like you.”; canon!fic





	Here, Me

**Author's Note:**

> If the first one featured an oblivious Han, this one features an overthinking Minho. The tenses and timeline to this are a bit of a mess I hope it's not to confusing. Kinda just wanted to finish this before the idea disappeared. This picks up right where [this](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15912639) left off.

 

 

_Hyung, I like you._

The words run through Minho’s head repeatedly. Jisung is sitting beside him, head resting against his shoulder as he sleeps through the flight.

_I like you._

Surely, he read that correctly? Jisung didn’t flinch either when Minho turned towards him and said the words out loud. In fact, the way his face had lit up is now permanently etched in Minho’s memory. 

In return, he’d been so bold - so straightforward. _I like you too, Jisungie_. The words came out of him so easily, so comfortably, like they had been waiting forever at the tip of his tongue, biding their time until they could escape.

 

 

—

 

 

Minho’s head is bobbing along to the music that’s blasting in his ears through personal earphones; he’s even humming along to the melody, but he’s also looking across the room at Woojin and Felix as they talk to each other in hushed tones. Felix, he assumes, is probably telling Woojin all about his day.

He finds himself impatiently tapping the side of his leg, waiting until the younger one is done. Lucky for Minho, only a few more minutes pass before Hyunjin is popping his head in the room and beckoning Felix for something or other. Minho doesn’t pay attention enough to catch what exactly it is Hyunjin needs the Australian for.

Once the door is closed again, he slides off the bed, and makes his way over to Woojin.

“Hyung.” He doesn’t exactly wait for an invitation before he’s getting on the bed, and sitting on it, feet tucked under him while he leans back against the wall.

“Minho.” Woojin doesn’t mind - he’s used to this by now. He just gives the younger male a look, as if he’s waiting for whatever it is that needs to be shared.

“You ever have someone tell you they like you?”

Woojin’s expression is unreadable - Minho isn’t sure if the way his eyebrow quirks means the question surprised him, or if it’s exactly what he’d been expecting. It can go either way, after all Woojin isn’t stupid. Minho’s always wondered how much he must have suspected, but Minho’s also never been sure if Woojin is even comfortable with this topic.

“Fans… they tell me all the time?” Woojin sounds unsure, but he does seem to be open to hearing more, at least. This is what Minho likes about his roommate - he’s a good listener. He might not always understand Minho and his thoughts, but he’s always willing to be a sounding board. More often than not, that’s enough for Minho. “This isn’t about fans though, right?” Woojin gently prods.

Minho smiles - he doesn’t know why he does that, when he’s feeling so unsure. Maybe it’s because the memory of Jisung’s expression plays again in his head; it’s hard to think about that and _not_ smile. “It isn’t. Ah, hyung.” He laughs, and Woojin gives him a weird look. “Sorry,” he tries to pull himself together. “It’s—”

“Jisung?” The slight wince in Woojin’s expression isn’t lost on Minho, and for a split second he almost regrets bringing this up with the older male. He wonders if maybe a chat with Chan would have been a better idea, but Woojin is his roommate, and Woojin has always been good at listening.

Still, Minho gets nervous that maybe this time he’s finally over stepped, and Minho’s thoughts are suddenly going a mile a minute. He must have looked quite dazed because the vocalist is suddenly snapping his fingers in front of Minho’s face, successfully pulling him back to reality.

He nods. “Jisung,” he repeats, voice soft and barely audible.

The older male inhales deeply, and Minho appreciates that he’s at least _trying_ to understand.

 

 

 

The first time Minho accepted that he has a crush on Jisung was on a night after one of their first few fansigns, Mixtape era. The last few days prior had been hard on him because he had been unsure how to act in front of fans. He had to  keep reminding himself that this was happening, that he was really going to debut, _that these people, these_ _fans_ _, actually liked him_. He had ended up replaying so much of the last couple of days in his head as he holed himself up in his  room, not in any mood for anything or anyone else.

And then Jisung had flung the door open, ran to him and jumped on his bed so he could wrap both arms and legs around Minho. “Hyung!” Jisung’s voice is loud - _too_ loud, even - and Minho had initially groaned in response. He was about to snap and push the rapper off himself, but Jisung had tightened his hug and for some reason laughter had emerged from Minho instead.

“What are you doing here?” He made an attempt to shrug off the smaller boy, but there had barely been any feeling to it.

“You looked a little out of it, hyung,” Jisung had explained; his hold slowly loosened as he spoke, but Minho had stopped trying to escape or move away. “You know, hyung, I think you’re really, really great.”

Minho had allowed himself to crack a small smile at that. Jisung’s words were so small, yet so _real,_ and he couldn’t help but let them comfort him. _It’s_ _hard_ , he had thought - or maybe he’d actually whispered; softly, for sure, but enough for Jisung to have heard.

“You used to intimidate me,” he’d found himself admitting to Jisung; it’s funny because he really did. It was bad enough because the first time they had met, iit had felt as if Jisung’s glare had pierced right through him. Minho is the type to have easily brushed it off, except— “You’re so good at everything,” he continued to tell Jisung, because for a while he had felt so small every time he was in a room with Jisung. Rap skills? Check. Vocals? Check. Dancing? Sometimes Minho thinks the younger male can give _him_ a run for his money if he wanted to.

“Don’t be silly, hyung. Even _I_ used to be intimidated - no, I was _jealous_ of so many people,” Jisung continued to drone on, and even though Minho kept quiet, he let himself be comforted by Jisung’s stories as a trainee. _If I could become better, so can you_. He understands that this is the message being relayed, because somehow Jisung knew exactly what to say to help lift Minho’s spirits up.

“You’re cute,” Minho had whispered in the middle of Jisung’s long monologue about how talent and perseverance go together.

 _Shit_ , he had thought, even as he allowed himself to be enveloped in Jisung’s genuine warmth and quiet understanding. Minho, if anything, has always been painfully self aware, and in that moment he had made himself aware that if it were any other member, they would have very quickly gotten booted out of his bed, and out of his room. _Shit, this is trouble._

 

 

 

Minho has always been a strange one.

It’s not like he set out to be weird - when he was younger, he used to ask a lot of questions at school. It shouldn't have been a problem, after all that's supposed to be what education is for, children are _encouraged_ to be curious. Except— except Minho rarely asked the same questions as the other students.

And it just went on as he grew older. He likes what he likes, does what he does, and knows what he knows.

So he's strange, but he knows he's strange and he's perfectly fine with it. He didn’t think much about having people understand him, not fully. It wasn’t something he thought he needed, or _wanted_. He had friends and family who loved him, and whom he loved and as long as they knew that he never meant anyone harm, that was enough.

But then Han Jisung had entered his life and that’s when Minho realised something’s been missing all along.

“No one likes you as much as I do, hyung,” Jisung told him once. Minho had been momentarily shocked silent because what in the hell was he supposed to say to _that_?

“I think a few of the fans would give you a run for your money,” he shot back instead, chuckling like his heart hadn’t just grown two sizes bigger from Jisung’s words alone.

“Well they don’t know you like I do.” Jisung’s sing-song tone as he said the words made it sound like he was joking, but the look in his eyes made it known to Minho that he was being completely genuine.

He wanted to say something to that, to keep the banter going - but instead he let the words settle in his chest. Minho never knew how good it felt to have someone _know_ you. He has no idea what he did right - or what Jisung was doing right - but somehow, _somehow_ Jisung was doing it; and it was a little scary because what would happen if he ever managed to find all of Minho’s scattered pieces and put them together? What would happen if - no, more like _when_ he realises that Minho is slowly, irrevocably, falling in love with him?

Getting closer to Jisung meant playing with fire - how could this boy know him so well, but be so completely oblivious to the hardships he was causing? But it was too late anyway; it wasn’t as if he could remove himself from the situation, so Minho just did the only option available to him - he held his breath, and kept moving forward.

 

 

 

“Don’t underestimate Jisung too much.” In the end, this is all that Woojin tells him. Minho opens his mouth to contest the advice, but he closes it again before he can say anything. Woojin’s right, he figures, because more often than not, Woojin is right.

 

 

 

“Jisung-ah.”

When Minho finally seeks him out, he finds Jisung busy looking for something in his closet, but he’s quick to turn when Minho calls. “Hyung!” He greets, his face lighting up so brightly that Minho almost melts. _Goddamn_ , he thinks, his  thoughts get so cheesy when it comes to Jisung - it’s an annoying but apparently a necessary side effect of _feelings_.

“Can we talk?” He asks, quietly closing the door behind him. Jisung looks momentarily confused, but he’s quick to smile again before nodding and taking a seat on Hyunjin’s bed.

Minho swiftly crosses the room to take a spot next to him. He wonders how to begin this conversation — _So, remember that time at the airport, you know, just a few days ago?_ It sounds so stupid in his head, so he ends up laughing nervously instead.

He looks  at Jisung, silent as he tries to gather the correct words in his head. He’s so used to just voicing out whatever is in his head - he wonders how some people deal with having too many thoughts at once. But as the younger male keeps looking at him, eyes wide and expecting, Minho realises that he shouldn’t have to deal with overthinking if he doesn’t want to; it’s not him after all.

“Han Jisung,” he repeats the name instead. ”I like you.”

Jisung blinks, confused. “I thought we already covered this, hyung?” He sounds uncertain, and Minho finds it so adorable. “I mean I li—”

“No, I mean—” Minho cuts him off, but even so he has to pause in the middle of his own sentence. “I mean I like you. In the I want to be around you all the time, and I want to kiss you way.”

“Hyung!”

“I just needed to make sure you understood as much,” Minho continues, his voice steady. Now that he’s started, he can’t stop, and a cheeky grin has formed on his face. “Just needed to make sure that you can handle as much.”

“Hyung—” Jisung keeps trying to get a word in as Jisung tends to do, but Minho isn’t letting him have it. It’s not even that he has a lot to say, but it’s more that he’s enjoying the growing look of frustration on Jisung’s face. It’s fun getting the younger male riled up, and Minho thinks he deserves this bit of indulgence considering how long he has had to deal with keeping his feelings to himself.

“You understand what I’m saying right?” And here Jisung nods, his big, button-like eyes sparkly and filled with eagerness.

“Hyung—” he starts again, this time, a little whiny. Minho thinks he kind of likes that sound.

“So kiss me if you do.” The way Minho says it is bold - even somewhat pertinent. Jisung, on the other hand, is gaping at him in surprise.

“Um, I—” Jisung’s expression is a mixture of frustration, shyness and uncertainty. “Hyung, I…” He takes a deep breath after he trails off, and Minho easily observes the little changes in his expression - from the nervous way he silently swallows, to the bold determination that forms in his eyes right before he closes them so he can lean in, still in a very much hesitant manner that shows he has absolutely no idea what he’s doing.

“Jisung-ah.” Minho says his name with controlled amusement; he places his hand on Jisung’s shoulder, only to gently shake him, waiting for the latter to halfway open his eyes again before he grabs the metaphorical reigns and swoops in himself, his lips reaching Jisung’s before the smaller male can do or say anything else.

Jisung’s lips are chapped, and Minho almost wants to joke about him using lip balm more often, but when Jisung moves to tilt his head for a better angle, every other thought flies out of Minho’s because it turns out, dry lips or not, actually kissing Jisung is much better than he could have ever imagined.

Their mouths part against each other’s, and Minho leads it by moving his lips just a little against Jisung’s. And then he slowly moves away, eyes fluttering open so he can check for Jisung’s reaction.

“Like that,” he says, grinning as he leans his forehead against the younger’s. “I like you like that.”

“Me too hyung,” Jisung returns, a happy smile decorating his lips. “Me too.”

  
  
  
  
_fin_.


End file.
